Джеймс Паттерсон - Revenge

“Susie . . .” prompted Guy. “It’s Shelley.”

“Yes,” she said, “I know. I can see him.” She turned her face slowly to Shelley. “Hello, David,” she said. “I had a feeling you wouldn’t be put off so easily. You want answers.”

He nodded. “I’d like to know why she did it, Susie. Was it the drugs?”

“I suppose you could say that. That’s where it all started.”

Drake sat down beside her and exhaled in exasperation. “We’re doing this, are we?” His jaw worked, and a little muscle on the side of his face jumped. “We’re telling him everything?”

Susie ignored the question and continued, “We knew about the drugs—”

“We didn’t know about the drugs,” Drake interrupted. “We would have bloody done even more if we’d known about—”

“We didn’t know about the heroin ,” corrected Susie, voice rising, “but we knew about the drugs, whatever drugs they were. Party drugs.” She indicated the club flyers decorating the wall. “We knew what she was into.”

“We thought she was going through a phase,” argued Guy. His voice dropped. “That was all.”

Neither of them knew which side was up. They both wanted someone to blame and couldn’t find that person in the mirror so they chose the nearest target.

Susie continued, “Emma liked to go out. She liked to live it up. Parties abroad, that kind of thing. We gave her a lot of money, enough to live on, but it wasn’t enough.”

Shelley saw the pair of them share a look and knew there was another bone of contention lurking there, so he quickly moved the conversation forward. “She needed more,” he pressed.

“For her lifestyle,” said Susie. “For drugs.”

“And this is what you found out since she died, is it?” he asked them.

Susie looked away. Guy folded his arms nodding, averting his eyes.

Which brings us to your new security detail , thought Shelley.

“Investigations for you conducted by Bennett, Gurney, and that other muppet, I guess?”

Again came the nods and averted eyes.

“Why didn’t you come to me?” he asked them, although he already knew the answer.

“I wouldn’t have known how to contact you.” Guy’s answer was a little too quick and not at all convincing.

“I still have the same number.”

Guy gave a little exasperated sigh. “How was I to know that?”

“I know plenty of folk who’ve had the same number for decades. You’ve kept the same gate code, for God’s sake. Besides, Emma knew it.”

They both looked at him sharply, and he returned their gaze evenly. He hadn’t known whether or not he planned to tell them about the call, but there it was, out in the open for all to see.

“What do you mean?” asked Susie. Her eyes narrowed, body language changing.

“She tried to call me. Correction, she did call me. I didn’t pick up.”

“And now you wish you had,” said Susie. It wasn’t a question, just a bald statement of fact, arrowing right into the heart of all that had been haunting Shelley these past few days.

“More than anything I wish I’d picked up, Susie,” he said.

For a moment or so, the three of them lapsed into silence, each enduring a period of private grief, lost in a world of what-ifs and what-might-have-beens. Until at last Susie broke the silence, voice low but raw and husky with tears already shed and more to come. “Are you going to tell him?”

Drake made a noise, twisting away like a kid in a huff.

“You tell him or I will,” she pressed.

Drake shook his head but then spoke anyway. “I employed Bennett and Gurney to do some detective work, to find out about Emma’s final movements, that’s all,” he said. His words sounded watery and weak.

“How did you get them? Did you go to Gerald Mowles?” Again, Shelley knew the answer but wanted to hear it from them.

“As a matter of fact I did.”

“But Gerald would have recommended me. Gerald knows full well that I’ve left the Regiment and set up on my own and that I’ve got a history with this family. I’m in no doubt he would have put me forward.”

“He did,” said Susie simply. “He told us all of that.”

Shelley nodded. Guy was about to say something but Shelley stopped him. “But you wanted more than just investigative work, didn’t you? And when you put that to Gerald, he told you I’d have nothing to do with it, didn’t he? Because it’s not just information you want. It’s payback.”

Guy’s face was hard. His eyes lost their misty grief and became flinty once more—the hard-nosed businessman. “Yes,” he growled. “Yes, that’s exactly what I fucking want.”

CHAPTER 18

SHELLEY SHOOK HIS head in frustration then turned his attention to Susie. “And you?” he asked her. “Is that what you want, too?”

She looked at him and said nothing, but Shelley thought he saw it there too, that desire—no, that need . An eye for an eye.

“Susie,” pleaded Shelley, “you can’t go down that route.”

She looked away from him. He saw all the indecision within and knew that if there was any way to reach the Drakes it was through her. “Susie—”

She rounded on him. “David, you don’t understand. It wasn’t just the drugs . . .”

“She was in porn,” Drake said with a trembling voice.

“They groomed her, David,” added Susie. “They made sure she owed them thousands and then put her to work when she had no other choice.”

Shelley’s fists clenched, dreading the answer to the question he asked next. “What kind of porn?”

“Cams. Do you know what they are?”

“I think so,” he replied cautiously. “Like peep shows for guys with an internet connection.”

“Yes, just like that,” said Susie. “That was what they had her doing. Working for them, stripping, doing God knows what else.”

“Where?”

“We don’t know,” Drake answered.

“Well, who are these people?”

“We don’t know that either.”

“But you’re trying to find out?” said Shelley.

“That’s what Bennett has been employed to do.”

“And this is what they turned up so far, have they?”

Drake nodded.

“But none of that information came from the police,” said Shelley.

“How would you know?” asked Drake.

“Because I’ve done a little digging of my own. And the cops don’t know anything about any cams. Not yet anyway. So where did they get that information?”

“They hit the streets, Shelley,” said Drake.

“Using your money to open doors.”

“It’s worked, hasn’t it?”

Shelley considered for a second. Was it possible that Bennett and Gurney were lying, that this was some kind of shakedown? Well, yes, of course it was possible—but probable ? He didn’t think so. Their sources, on the other hand . . .

“Desperate people will say anything if you wave a few quid in their face,” he told the Drakes.

“I’m afraid it’s all true, David,” said Susie. “We wish more than anything it wasn’t.”

“She was . . .” Drake trailed off.

When Shelley looked at him he saw that the older man’s face had gone red but not with fury, or at least not just with fury. Written all over his features was a disquieting mix of rage, grief, frustration, and impotence, all feelings that millionaire businessman Guy Drake, MBE, had never expected to have to suffer again.

“She was working,” Susie completed her husband’s sentence for him. “She was working the night she killed herself.”

“Doing one of those cam things.” Drake had found his voice. It shook with suppressed rage.

“She did it on camera, David,” said Susie, “there’s film of it. Somewhere out there on the internet is film of our daughter killing herself.”